


Upon a rapier's point

by veronasowl



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Rómeó és Júlia (Színház), the duel takes a different turn. For better or worse remains to be seen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:55:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronasowl/pseuds/veronasowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fatal duel is fought in Verona, only the ending differs, still as Escalus ponders over it, he cannot call it a happy ending still...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon a rapier's point

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo I am a great what if thinker, and so I had to go through the possibility of the duel taking a different turn. Is it less tragic now or not? We'll see...

Since hours he had been sitting there, with hunched shoulders, elbows resting on his desk staring in the flame of the single flickering candle that lit his study. He’d given orders not to be disturbed and was well aware that by now the whole house was sleeping, except for him. The clock struck four, soon even this night would be over at last, but what kind of day was to follow? “Better not think of it” he mumbled, and yet he thought about nothing else. His nephew, his boy, Mercutio… Why? Why? Why did it have to be so? Part of him still refused to believe what had happened, it couldn’t be! It mustn’t be! And yet he knew it was so, he’d seen it with his own eyes, and what was worth, so had half of Verona… Too many witnesses, no way hushing it down, but how could they expect him to condemn his own nephew? And what else should they expect? He himself had pronounced the law, he was entrapped by his own words.

No matter how you put it, his nephew was a convicted killer. He had killed Tybalt Capulet in a fight, he had disrupted the peace, he was ripe for the gallows.  
“Damn it boy” he mumbled and sighed, reaching out with a trembling hand for the quill. The death sentence lay before him, all it needed was his signature. A stroke of a feather would be enough to kill his nephew, whom he had held over the font these 22 years ago and raised for the last 10 years in his house. It certainly was never boring with this young rogue, this constant trouble-shooter. And despite all the troubles, he had loved every moment he shared with him, he was the closest thing to a son he had.  
And now, this all was over. This old life was part of the past since the moment Benvolio had breathlessly stumbled into the house babbling that Mercutio told him to fetch the surgeon. Panicked he’d come with the doctor, fearing the worst. His heart leapt with joy and relieve when, arriving on the market place he saw his nephew standing, seemingly unharmed, but very pale with an expression of utter horror on his face. Then he noticed Mercutio’s rapier, covered in blood. Tybalt’s blood. The young Capulet lay there on the ground, surrounded by a silent and stupefied crowd. He was groaning and gasping for air, both hands pressed tightly onto the wound on his chest, while his own blood ran through his fingers. His old servant was kneeling beside him and had placed Tybalt’s head on his lap, but the latter hardly seemed to be aware of anything but his agonizing pain. The surgeon took a quick look, and shaking his head in dismay called for a stretcher. He ordered that Tybalt should be taken to the palace where he’d attempt an emergency operation. As Tybalt was lifted onto the stretcher he screamed in pain, and Escalus saw his nephew flinching at the sound. Before anyone could stop him he rushed forward to Tybalt, but unsure what to do stopped dead in front of him. For a second the eyes of the two men met, and while Mercutio’s eyes were searching forgiveness Tybalt turned his head away.

“Angelica, Juliet, my aunt” he croaked with difficulty, looking now at his servant. “Please!” The old man understood at once, squeezed Tybalt’s shoulder saying “I’ll get them this second, they’ll be there ere you know it. You can count on me my boy!” and set off running as fast as he could, while Tybalt was hurried away to the palace, Mercutio, Benvolio and Romeo following behind. Ben had his arm wrapped round Merc’s shoulders, while Rome was just standing there, apathetically staring into the void. None of them was able to grasp what had happened, what was happening. They felt death was in their midst, but they were too young to welcome him, and the same was to be said for Tybalt. True he was their enemy, but he was one of them nonetheless, and no one wanted him to die no matter how often they said so.  
While the boys were waiting in the hall, the prince had followed the surgeon and Tybalt into the dining room where Tybalt was placed on the table. The surgeon now had a closer look at the wound while his patient cringed in pan. Escalus noted that the boy’s face had turned ashen, distorted by suffering. He knew this look; he’d seen it on the battlefield. It was the look of a dying man. All he could do know was hoping that his family and the friar arrived in time. Suddenly the boy tore his eyes open in panic, and stared at the prince who suddenly realised that Tybalt was all alone, none of the Capulets servants had come with him, and the trusty old servant was gone alarming the family. He seized the hand of Tybalt, and held it, looking him straight in the eyes telling him it would be alright. He was surprised by the force with which the boy clasped his hand, holding on to it with all the strength he had left in him, while staring fixedly in his eyes, with this haunting look of panic, pain, despair, and sadness. Then all of sudden his body twitched, his eyes broke and he felt the hand grow limp in his own.  
When he told the boys who were still waiting outside that it was over, Mercutio collapsed and burst into tears. Benvolio rushed to his side holding him close. But Escalus had no word of comfort for his nephew. He knew what he would have to say shortly, but for now there was Lady Capulet arriving her daughter by her side, the nurse following closely. They had to be told.

Breaking such news is never easy, lying to their face, that it was an easy painless death while still being haunted by the memory of the pain in the dying man’s eyes, wa too much for him. But he had to lie about the dead to comfort the living, though precious little comfort it was. After having listened to his condolences and report about Tybalt’s death, as well as his promise that investigations about the circumstances of the tragedy would begin immediately, the Capulet’s got up to go. They had a funeral to prepare, already closing the door Lady Capulet turned back and looked at him. “I trust you’ll bring justice over the murderer” and then closed the door leaving him alone.  
The rest of the afternoon he’d gathered information about what had happened, how the fight had come about. It turned out that Tybalt had been looking for Romeo and had challenged him as soon as he found him, but the latter refused the fight with a wisdom that was not found in his nephew alas. A fight like so many before had ensued and as he gathered with some difficulty from the sobbing Benvolio, would have ended with a scratch and a laugh as usual had not Romeo stepped between the fighters, causing Mercutio to jump aside in surprise and fear he could hurt his friend and in doing so pierced Tybalt’s chest.  
An accident then, a foolish, unnecessary accident. But that changed nothing. Mercutio had broken the peace, as result of this Tybalt was pierced with his rapier and tomorrow morning would be buried. There was no way out of it. 

As far as the law was concerned Mercutio was a criminal and dead.  
As far as Escalus he was his nephew and miserable.

At five am the stable boy was roused form his sleep and told to saddle the best horse. Shortly afterwards Mercutio galloped to Mantua. The official version would be, that he had escaped-only everybody would know it to be a lie. Escalus was aware of this, he had forfeited his honour for his nephew’s life and though it hurt him deeply he knew he’d not regret the choice.

Of course he had to pacify the Capulets which would not be easy but then, now he was a fugitive his nephew certainly could not inherit half of the palace as would have been his due, some money would be all he’d get in case of Escalus’ death. Instead he thought he’d give Paris his immediate blessing for the wedding with the Capulet girl, together with the promise that the whole palace would be Paris’ one day. This should solve the problem with the Capulets. They’d be angry, but rather he’d deal with their anger than his nephew’s death and in time they’d get over it as they learned the advantages of having the prince as a relative. Yes, thanks to the wedding all would yet be well….


End file.
